


Benched

by thegreatbel_0



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Hopeful Ending, Injury, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:42:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25946770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatbel_0/pseuds/thegreatbel_0
Summary: What do you do when the one constant in your life is taken away? Tobio learns how to deal.
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio & Karasuno Volleyball Club
Kudos: 40
Collections: Prodigy ♔ A Kageyama Tobio Fanzine - Fanworks Collection





	Benched

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for the Kageyama Zine, which you can download for free [here](https://kageyamazine.tumblr.com/post/625278460593586176/were-delighted-to-announce-the-release-of-prodigy)!

Tobio remembers the collision, the fall, the impact. He thinks he remembers hearing a snap but doesn’t know if it came from his leg or his heart.

A whirlwind whisks him away from the court, first to the nurse’s office, then to the hospital, and finally to home. Tobio doesn’t remember much of this part, painkillers seeming to numb everything but the ache in his chest. Clarity only comes once he finds himself standing lopsidedly in front of his grandfather’s altar.

“Kazuyo- _san_ , what do I do now?”

There’s no answer, of course. Tobio makes his way to his room, locks the door, and crawls into bed. It hurts.

This is temporary, he tells himself. Only a few months. If he takes proper care of himself, maybe it’ll be even shorter.

He doesn’t look at the calendar on his desk, at the weeks and days counting down to the start of the Interhigh tournament.

It hurts.

* * *

By the doctor’s orders, Tobio is not allowed to practice on the court or do any strenuous activities. It would’ve been “not allowed to go to practice at all” before Tobio’s loud complaints convinced the doctor otherwise. There’s not much he can do with a broken ankle, but Tobio refuses even the thought of not being there when everyone else on the team is working hard to get better and stronger. He can’t let himself fall behind by even a centimeter.

And so the next day, Tobio shows up to practice. He’s late, his crutches slowing him down, but he’s here. The door poses some amount of difficulty, but he manages to slide it open and nearly falls over in the process. One of his crutches falls to the floor with a clatter.

Coach Ukai quickly waves at everyone to continue the drill and rushes over to help him up, wedging the fallen crutch back under his arm. “Kageyama! What are you doing here?”

Tobio looks past him into the gym. The court is calling. “I’m here for practice. Sir.”

Ukai gapes at him. “You are _not_ here for practice. You need to rest until your ankle heals.”

“But I’m fine-”

“What part of _this_ is fine?!” Ukai exclaims, gesturing to the crutches and the cast on Tobio’s foot.

Tobio fights the sinking feeling in his chest. “I won’t get in the way, I promise,” he pleads.

Ukai takes in a heavy breath, looking in desperate need of a smoke as he pinches the space between his brows. Another hand drops onto Tobio’s shoulder, gentle but firm. Tobio looks down at Mr. Takeda.

“It’s not about getting in the way, Kageyama. You’re injured, and we can’t risk you doing anything that could cause irreparable damage. Th-that means it can’t be healed forever,” he adds when Tobio opens his mouth to ask. “We can still let you come to the gym during practice, but please understand that we can’t let you onto the court in this state. In the meantime, how about you take a seat and watch? You can still learn a lot this way.”

It’s better than nothing, better than being banned from the gym entirely. Tobio accepts with a clumsy bow and takes a seat on the folding chair that Yachi pulls out for him. He watches his teammates run through their drills, phantom stings in his fingertips whenever the first-year setter tosses the ball.

The sound of the whistle snaps Tobio out of his daze. Someone comes running at him and all but drops to the floor by his feet, nose to the ground.

“I’m so sorry, Kageyama- _san_!” It’s the first-year, Tokita, the one who collided with him during the match. The one who put him on the bench.

“You…” Tobio feels something boiling inside him, threatening to spill out. Then Ennoshita pops into his peripheral vision, bringing with him a memory from last year. Tobio breathes in, lets it out slowly, loosening the iron grip he has on his knees.

“It’s okay. I’m glad you didn’t get hurt, too.” The words are stiff and awkward, but he means it, and he hopes that gets across. He reaches over to pick up a water bottle from the pile next to him. “Um. You can get up now. Here’s some water.”

“R-right. Thank you.” Tokita gets to his feet and takes the offered bottle, shuffling away to join the other first years.

“Wow, Kageyama, I thought you were gonna kill him or something. You looked really mad for a second, it was scary!”

Tobio glares up at Hinata, who materializes next to him. He wants to be mad, to blame this on someone else and hurt him as badly as he has been. But he knows it won’t help, and he’ll be stuck on the sidelines regardless. “Shut up, idiot. And your spikes are getting sloppy.”

“Eh?! Really? How?”

“Yeah, your form sucks.”

“Be more specific, Stupid-yama!” The chair keeps Tobio from punching at him properly, and Hinata nimbly leaps out of the way.

Ennoshita inserts himself between them. “He probably means you should be mindful of your form right after jumping. Right, Kageyama?”

“Mm.” Tobio shrugs in response.

Yachi whistles for the break to end and Ennoshita starts herding Hinata and the first years back onto the court. He turns back and calls out over his shoulder to Tobio, “Why don’t you help Yachi take notes? It’d be good to have another set of eyes watching to help us improve.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As everyone splits into lines for spiking practice, Tobio pulls out his volleyball notebook and a pen from his bag. He flips to the next empty page and marks the date. He stares.

“... Yachi- _san_.”

Yachi jumps a bit in surprise but walks over, eyes flicking between Tobio and the court. “Y-yes?”

“What should I write?”

“Oh! Well, I’m recording everyone’s stats right now, like how many spikes everyone lands.” Yachi pauses to mark something down as Tanaka lets out a cheer. “How about you take notes on things for everyone to improve on? Like you did with Hinata-kun earlier?”

Tobio mulls the idea over in his head and then gets to work.

It’s different, seeing the court from this angle. Tobio admits that it’s easier to notice everyone’s different habits from the sidelines: how high each spiker jumps, how they angle their bodies to attack, how each blocker reacts to incoming spikes.

“Sorry! I’ll toss it lower next time!”

…And how the first-year setter keeps flubbing his sets. Tobio knows he’s not bad, or else he wouldn’t have made it onto the team, but it’s frustrating to watch.

After the fourth time that the setter, Shoji, and one of his spikers don’t quite sync up, and the ball gets tossed too low for Narita to hit over the net, Tobio throws his pen down and snaps.

“Oi! What’s wrong with your sets?”

Silence falls over the gym. Tanaka breaks it, letting out a “Bruh, what’s with you?”

Shoji shuffles his feet and fidgets. “U-um…?”

Tobio tries to stand up before his ankle reminds him that’s a bad idea. He settles for waving his arms around as he tries to explain. “Don’t try to set the ball the same way for each spiker. You’re not— You’re not bringing out… I mean, each spiker is different so you have to…”

Ukai thankfully picks up where Tobio trails off. “Communicate with your teammates, he means, and keep track of their conditions throughout the game. Keep in mind how each person spikes so you can give them the best set that’ll draw out their full strength.”

Tanaka laughs and slings an arm around Shoji’s shoulders. “Haha! We taught him that last year! Glad to see our little Kageyama’s growing up to be a good _senpai_ , teaching all our precious first-years!”

Tobio hides his reddening cheeks by picking up his pen. “Sorry for the interruption.”

* * *

“Glad to see you’re still a king, even when your throne’s a bench.”

It’s break time again. Tsukishima’s mean as always, but the nonchalance with which he wipes his glasses barely masks the slight hint of concern in the way he stands not quite close. Or at least, it looks like concern to Tobio. Probably.

“Shut up. What else can I do?”

The question hangs in the air, then falls to the ground like a missed receive as Yachi blows the whistle for practice to resume.

“You’ll figure it out. Now drink your milk like a good boy so you can set for us again.”

With that, Tsukishima jogs back onto the court. Kageyama stays.

It hurts.

It hurts, but Tobio reopens his book and sets pen to paper again.

Maybe he won’t get to play for a few months, but this is still volleyball.


End file.
